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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218584">Welcome Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pnkrathian/pseuds/pnkrathian'>pnkrathian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mother 3, Mother Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Confessions of love, First Meeting, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major game spoilers, Slow Burn, bed sharing, late-night conversations, some language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:14:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pnkrathian/pseuds/pnkrathian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, a strange man appears at Club Titiboo, the home of a band known as the DCMC.  When the band’s leader, OJ, decides to help him, he has no idea about how close they would be in the future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Duster/OJ, Dusterjuice, Lucky/OJ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Welcome Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The halls of the newly-built nightclub were silent, since it was not open to the public quite yet. That was the reason why no one there had expected that a new visitor would arrive earlier that day. Now here he was, spending the night there until he could figure out what he was going to do with himself next. He had seemingly been wandering around, looking for help until he saw the nightclub, Club Titiboo, up on the top of the large hill. The poor guy must’ve climbed all the way up it himself; there was no way the attendants would have let a guy like him up on the lift.</p><p>When the DCMC, Titiboo’s resident entertainers, found the man, they practically had to pry the club’s bouncers off of him; they were literally trying to kick him out of the building. The man pleaded with the bouncers hoarsely, and when they responded with force, he attempted to defend himself. However, it was no use, because it seemed that whatever strength and ability he had was completely used up, and he crumpled pathetically beneath the bouncers’ blows. Luckily, the DCMC had heard the noise and rushed to the front lobby just in time to stop them from kicking him out for good.</p><p>The band could see that the man was in desperate need for help. He was cold, dirty, pale, and heavily fatigued. There was a constant look of exhaustion and confusion on his face, as if everything that he was experiencing around him was taking an extra few minutes to process in his head. He was shaking slightly, his wiry mustache twitched anxiously, and he would often run his hand through his dusty, brown hair. He seemed hurt as well, since he walked around with a limp in his stride.</p><p>OJ, the leader of the DCMC, was who convinced the bouncers to let them listen to what the man had to say. OJ knew very well that he had a soft spot for helping people in need, so he was the first person to offer to listen to the stranger. Even though his story of how he ended up in this desperate state was definitely a strange one, washing up on a riverbank with no memory and all, he had a weird, deep feeling in his gut that the man was being sincere. The man did ask the band for help, but he did so politely and gently, despite the fact that he was exhausted and desperate. He even offered to do some small favors in return, such as doing a few cleaning jobs around the club, but the band refused to let him try to “pay them back” for anything. The members of the DCMC were all too familiar with the feeling of being poor and desperate; the band was the product of a group of friends just struggling to get by in the first place. Even though they were now on their way to fame and riches with the signing of this new club deal, they definitely had not forgotten what it felt like to be without a home or a family.</p><p>OJ instructed the kitchen staff to bring out something for the man to eat, and something warm to drink. He was not too picky, considering that he did not even remember what foods he liked or disliked. The easiest and quickest thing the kitchen could bring out was a hamburger and a basket of fries, Club Titiboo’s special. The kitchen did not have any good choices for a hot drink, since it specialized in fast food, so OJ brought him a mug of hot mint tea from his own personal stash. It was a strange combination for a meal, but it worked well enough. The man seemed to enjoy it, and not long after his belly became full, he began to act a bit more alive and attentive.</p><p>The DCMC then offered to let him stay for at least a night, which he was very thankful for. OJ told the man that he would let him sleep in his bed, but the man refused and insisted that he would find somewhere else to sleep, because he felt bad about having OJ give it up. A bit stubbornly, OJ told him that he deserved somewhere comfortable and cozy to sleep, especially since he was so tired and beat up. They went back and forth, bickering for a few minutes, until OJ had an idea for a compromise. He asked the man if he was comfortable sharing a bed with him. The man pondered it for a bit, but then he quietly agreed, stretching and yawning as he did so. They were both satisfied, and OJ did not mind the idea of sharing a bed with a stranger, even one as strange as this guy.</p><p>Afterwards, OJ let the man use the shower in his room to clean himself up and to hopefully get him feeling better. The band also offered him spare clothes, and he seemed to be flattered by their kindness; it looked like he did not expect the shower and the clothes, even though, the band thought, he needed those things severely. These things just made them more and more curious about the man.</p><p>Once he finished his shower, the man came out from OJ’s bathroom wearing an oversized DCMC t-shirt and small, comfortable shorts that had been loaned to him. OJ was already relaxing in bed, and had one side of the covers pulled back to make space for his new companion.</p><p>“Hey… how ya doin’?” OJ said with a tired but friendly smile, “You feelin’ any better now?”</p><p>The man paused for a second, but then responded quietly:</p><p>“Uh… yeah. I do. I… I ain’t as cold now. Thanks.”</p><p>“Of course,” OJ smiled, “Now come on over here. You gotta be exhausted as hell.”</p><p>“Yeah,” The man sighed as he limped over slowly, “Yeah… I am.”</p><p>He then tentatively got into the bed, and buried himself beneath its covers. It was queen-sized, so there was just enough room for the two of them to sleep at least a little bit apart.</p><p>“You feelin’ comfy enough?” OJ asked.</p><p>“Mm-hm,” The man answered softly, with his head already on his pillow, “You guys uh… really didn’t need to do all this for me. Thanks. Again.”</p><p>“Hey, it ain’t a problem at all,” OJ said, “I… sorta know what it's like to need help like that. Believe me, it's really the least we could do, man.”</p><p>The man responded by nodding tiredly; he was so exhausted that it seemed like he was already half asleep.</p><p>“Alright, I won’t keep ‘ya up any longer,” OJ sighed as he turned off the lamp next to the bed, “G’night.”</p><p>“...‘Night,” The man mumbled into his pillow.</p><p>For a long time, there was silence, and OJ felt himself drifting off. He thought that the man had gone to sleep too, until after a while, he felt him shifting around a little. He was surprised to find that he was even a little awake, especially since the man had seemed so incredibly tired. OJ expected the shifting to stop after a little while, but it didn’t. Every few minutes, he felt the man next to him toss and turn, and after it went on for a long enough time, OJ noticed that his breathing sounded a little troubled, almost shaky. After a while, OJ decided to ask:</p><p>“Hey… are you okay? Why aren'tcha sleepin’ yet?”</p><p>“Um…” The man mumbled, almost seeming surprised that OJ was addressing him, “I… uh… I’m still… just cold.”</p><p>“Oh,” OJ replied, “I dunno if we’ve got any more blankets around here…”</p><p>“No,” The man sighed, “Sorry for… keeping you up… You don’t gotta… do any more for me… I’m fine.”</p><p>“You sure?” OJ asked, not exactly believing him. The man only nodded in response. They both sat in silence for a few minutes as the man kept shifting and shivering until OJ had an idea. He was a bit afraid the man would think it to be strange, but it was worth a shot.</p><p>“Hey…” OJ began, “If you’re still cold… If you’re uh… all good with it, I could move close to you. To keep you warm.”</p><p>“Oh. Uh,” The man breathed, seeming a little surprised, “Um…”</p><p>“Hey, it's fine if you don’t wanna,” OJ said back, afraid he was making the man uncomfortable.</p><p>“Oh, uh- No,” The man said, his eyes opening a little wider, “I’d actually… like that.”</p><p>“Really?” OJ questioned, still trying to be sure he wasn’t pressuring him. The man nodded slowly in response, beginning to shift closer himself.</p><p>“Alright,” OJ sighed, “C’mere.”</p><p>OJ came closer to the man until their stomachs and legs touched, which did not take much on OJ’s part, being as fat as he was. He was mostly relying on his warm belly to help the man feel better; it was definitely why a lot of the people he knew always told him he was very huggable. When they became situated against each other, it seemed like the man was already beginning to relax as he felt how warm OJ was. His legs were a bit cold, and felt scratchy from the hair on them. Their faces were still a bit apart, but OJ could still feel his breath. It was warm, and didn't smell that great, but OJ didn’t mind that much. He’d admit he had gotten closer with weirder people in the past, but he was just happy to help someone in need anyway.</p><p>“This good enough for ya?” OJ said softly.</p><p>“Uh… yeah,” The man mumbled sleepily, “Thanks.”</p><p>“Of course,” OJ smiled, “G’night… again.”</p><p>The man mumbled something again, too quiet for OJ to really make out what he was saying. He was already closing his eyes again, and nuzzling into his pillow. As OJ began to relax again, he caught himself examining the man without really thinking about it, since they were so close together now. He noticed that his big nose was a bit crooked, and it almost looked like it had been broken in the past, but he couldn’t tell for sure under the dim light. As he looked for longer, he also noticed that the man had several scars, both on his face and on his arms. OJ felt that he shouldn’t have been surprised, he must have been through a lot, especially to end up without a home or any memory whatsoever. OJ also found, strangely, that the man looked a bit younger up close than OJ had originally thought he was. Besides the bags under his eyes and the scars on his face, the man’s skin had barely any wrinkles or imperfections at all. OJ felt that he should have figured the man was younger in the first place, especially since he also noticed his voice was a bit higher and softer than he had expected, too.</p><p>After a little while of looking at him some more, OJ was a little surprised when he saw the man open his eyes; OJ thought that the man had fallen asleep long ago. He also seemed to be a bit surprised to find OJ looking at him. They both looked at each other in silence for a while until the man finally said:</p><p>“Uh… hi.”</p><p>“...Hey.” OJ breathed, a bit embarrassed, “You… uh… still havin’ trouble fallin’ asleep?”</p><p>The man shifted his eyes to the side and nodded, with a bit of a melancholy look on his face.</p><p>“Is… Is there anything I can do to help?” OJ asked, beginning to become a bit worried for him.</p><p>“Well… I dunno,” The man began, “You don’t need to… do anything else for me. I’m fine.”</p><p>“What’s keeping you up, though?” OJ said, “I can tell somethin’s really bothering you.”</p><p>The man sighed, a bit defeatedly.</p><p>“I’ve just…” He began, “I can’t stop thinkin’ about… a lotta stuff. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”</p><p>“Hey, I get that,” OJ said, “Remember, if you need to stay here at the club for a bit longer, we ain’t gonna stop ya.”</p><p>“Thanks… But I… uh…” The man responded, his voice a bit uneasy, “I just… don’t know who I am. And I don’t know where I came from a-and it’s… <em>really </em>starting to freak me out.”</p><p>The man’s eyes were open wider now, and OJ could see genuine fear in them. His mustache was twitching anxiously again, and he almost looked like he was on the verge of crying.</p><p>“I don’t remember where I live…” He continued, his speech getting shakier and shakier, “I don’t remember if I had any family, I- I don’t remember what I like and don’t like, I don’t… even know how old I am... I don’t even know my own name.”</p><p>And with that, any doubts OJ had about whether or not the man was messing with him with the whole amnesia story began to fade away. He could tell the man was legitimately terrified. He felt for him and wanted to help him, but he wasn’t sure how to respond. Without really thinking, he answered:</p><p>“Well… if it could make ‘ya feel better… Do ‘ya... want<em> me</em> to give ‘ya a name?”</p><p>The man seemed surprised again, he definitely did not expect OJ to ask him that.</p><p>“Well- I,” He stammered, “...What would you call me? I don’t even know what<em> I’d</em> call me”</p><p>“I dunno yet,” OJ said, “But we’ve gotta have <em>somethin’ </em>to call ‘ya if you’re gonna stay here for a while.”</p><p>“...Yeah,” The man breathed as he scratched himself behind his head, “I guess so.”</p><p>OJ thought for a little while more, until he came up with his first idea. It was another one that was a bit risky, but it came from a place of honesty.</p><p>“Well…” He began, “I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ this but… you got a nice face. How ‘bout I call ‘ya ‘Gorgeous’?”</p><p>“Hm…” The man mumbled as he pondered the name. OJ began to regret the choice a little. He was getting a bit embarrassed; this definitely wasn’t the first time he told a stranger he thought they looked good, but it felt a little different with this one for a reason he couldn't quite pin down. The thought of the man being potentially put off by him felt, in a way, almost devastating to OJ, and he didn’t know why.</p><p>“Uh… It’s a nice name, but,” The man continued, “I dunno if it fits me.”</p><p>“Oh…” OJ sighed, admittedly a bit disheartened, “Let’s think of a new one, then.”</p><p>“Did you… pick your own name?” The man asked curiously.</p><p>“Well, yeah, I actually sorta did,” OJ continued, “I started callin’ myself OJ, but it's really just a nickname that turned into a stage name. ‘Ya see, my actual name’s Jay.”</p><p>OJ paused for a second, but then resumed:</p><p>“Well, if ‘ya wanna be real specific, my <em>official</em> name’s Jacob. But no one ever calls me that, except for like... my parents. Anyway, my initials are ‘J’ and ‘O’, and I put ‘em together but switched them up to ‘OJ’ ‘cause I think it sounds cooler than ‘JO’.”</p><p>            “You’re right,” The man mumbled, “It… does sound better.”</p><p>“But to do somethin’ like that, ‘ya obviously need to remember your name,” OJ chuckled, “So let's think up somethin’ different for you.”</p><p>For a little while, they went back and forth with name ideas, and the man had a hard time settling on one he liked. They went from ‘normal’ names to names on the more strange and unique side and everything else in between. How about ‘Rick’? No. Craig? No. Doug? No. They went like this, with many more names, on, and on, and on, until the man stopped OJ politely.</p><p>“Hey, thanks…” He sighed, “But I feel like… I feel like I’m too out of it to decide. It’s… startin’ to stress me out more.”</p><p>“Oh,” OJ said as he stopped himself from thinking of more names, “Okay then. I didn’t know I’d end up makin’ ‘ya feel worse. Sorry about that.”</p><p>“No, it’s-” The man began, “It’s okay. I really appreciate… you guys tryin’ to help me so much.”</p><p>He paused again, sleepily trying to gather his thoughts, until he resumed:</p><p>“It means a lot to me. I guess I’m really lucky I ran into you guys.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m glad ‘ya feel that way,” OJ smiled softly. He took the man’s remark as a sign he really made a positive difference for him, and it made him happy to know he was really helping someone. He thought over the remark, until another idea dawned on him.</p><p>“Before we try to settle down again, can I give ‘ya just one more name idea? For now?”</p><p>“Um… okay. What is it?”</p><p>“‘Ya said you were lucky to find us,” OJ began, “Why don’t we call you that?”</p><p>“Call me what?” The man asked, still not quite getting what OJ was saying.</p><p>“Lucky!” OJ said back, “I feel like it could really fit you.”</p><p>The man paused to ponder it, when OJ began again:</p><p>“It looks like... you've been through a lot. But you’re still standing. Even after you’ve lost your goddamn memory and God only knows what else! I know I still don’t really know ‘ya but… I can tell you’re strong. And you’re lucky to have that.”</p><p>The man was looking at OJ with wide but soft eyes. He seemed surprised but genuinely touched by his words.</p><p>“I…” He murmured, “I think I like it.”</p><p>“You do?” OJ asked, a little surprised.</p><p>“Yeah,” The man continued, “You’re right. I… uh… think it fits me too.”</p><p>As he said this, he looked down at his scarred hands, seeming to mirror the ideas OJ had been thinking about him earlier, as if the first piece of his own, large, confusing puzzle was starting to fall into place. He still was a long way away from completing it, maybe he would <em>never</em> fully complete it, but a puzzle can never be solved without that first piece.</p><p>“I think I’ll keep it,” He said, “For now.”</p><p>For the first time since OJ met him, the faintest hint of a smile appeared on the man’s, or now, Lucky’s lips. It was a tired smile, but it was also warm and genuine.</p><p>“Well,” OJ said sweetly, “Nice to meetcha, Lucky.”</p><p>He held out his hand a few inches toward the other man, indicating that he wanted him to take it. Lucky hesitated for a few seconds, not entirely sure what OJ was going for. But then, a bit of understanding dawned on his face, and he took OJ’s hand gently. They shook hands as best they could while laying down on their sides. Lucky’s hand was rough from scars and calluses, but they weren’t dry. When he held OJ’s hand, he squeezed it a little bit, either forgetting exactly how shaking hands works, getting comfort from the close contact, or both.</p><p>“Nice to uh… meet you too,” Lucky murmured, the traces of a smile still on his face, “I’m… happy I did. I never expected you guys to be so nice to… someone like me.”</p><p>“Hey, it’s never been a big deal,” OJ retorted, “We… sorta know how you feel. Me and my friends got this whole band together ‘cause… we needed money but we didn’t have no one but each other, and we wanted to earn it doin’ somethin’ we loved. We know what it’s like to have nowhere to go. It may seem like we’re sorta big now but… we haven't been at this club for long, and it hasn’t even opened yet. So we’re far from forgettin’ what bein’ in need feels like.”</p><p>Lucky was silent again before answering:</p><p>“That means a lot to me… You’ve… uh… definitely got the part about me havin’ nowhere to go right.”</p><p>He ran his hand through his hair anxiously.</p><p>“Gah, I still dunno what the hell I’m gonna do.”</p><p>“Hey, there’s no rush,” OJ said, “Don’t forget, you’re free to stay here for a while. And when you’re ready to move on… we’ll let you on your way to do whatever you need to do. Or… we could even help you find a place.”</p><p>“You’d... do that?” Lucky said, surprised.</p><p>“Yeah. There ain’t much point in taking you in with us if we dump you back out on the streets when it's time for you to leave.”</p><p>There was yet another silence. The expression on Lucky’s face became a bit melancholy. He shifted his eyes away from OJ, and looked like he was thinking of something to say.</p><p>“Can I uh… tell you something?” He finally said, “...Something that ‘ya can’t tell anyone else.”</p><p>“Uh… sure,” OJ said, “Go ahead.”</p><p>He was a little perplexed about what sort of secret Lucky could have, but he went with it anyway.</p><p>“Well… uh,” Lucky breathed, a little anxiously, “I dunno if I wanna… go back and try to find stuff out about myself. I uh… at least not yet.”</p><p>“Why not?” OJ questioned, his brows knitted in confusion.</p><p>“...I don’t know why… uh,” Lucky whispered, “But… whenever I wonder about who I was… and uh… and what I used to do… what I used to be... I just get this weird… <em>bad</em> feeling about it.”</p><p>“Hey, that’s gotta be normal for…” OJ murmured comfortingly, “For someone like you. Losin’ your memory has gotta be pretty friggin’ horrifying.”</p><p>“No, it’s-” Lucky retorted, “It’s… like that but also… also not. I really, <em>really</em> would like to remember but… I’ve got this weird feeling- and it’s strong, too… that I… I’d be better off if I <em>didn’t</em> know. For now.”</p><p>OJ took a quick but good look at him again, studying the scars on his face as best he could under the darkness of the unlit room. He also looked at his crooked nose which he had figured had been broken once, the bags under his eyes, and remembered the limp in his walk. OJ remembered that Lucky told him his first memory after the amnesia was almost drowning in a river and then washing up on its bank. It didn’t take much for him to guess that Lucky probably had a hard life before he came to Club Titiboo. At first OJ was confused as to why Lucky would want to tell him, a complete stranger, a secret, even if he was a helpful and friendly one. But then, he understood. Sure, he and Lucky didn’t know each other that well yet, but OJ had spent the most time with him since he walked on to Titiboo’s doorstep. At this point, Lucky was probably more familiar with OJ than he was with anyone else. He didn’t say it out loud, but Lucky’s actions spoke that he was desperate for someone to trust. He was desperate for a sense of familiarity in a world where everything was suddenly foreign to him.</p><p>It only made OJ feel for him more. Even though he had asked for a lot of help when he came, Lucky had been nothing but nice and considerate about it, and he had already told him that he appreciated everything the DCMC did for him so far. OJ wanted to help him more, but he still wasn’t sure how. There was a silence in between the two men as thoughts churned in OJ’s head. But then, he had one final, genius idea, that could hopefully solve not only Lucky’s problems, but the band’s own as well.</p><p>“Hey,” He began, gesturing at Lucky, “I like you. A lot. You seem like a really nice guy. So…”</p><p>He trailed off, still a little nervous about what Lucky would think of this, but then he resumed:</p><p>“If you’d want… I’ve got a way ‘ya could stay with us... <em>permanently.</em> If ‘ya realize ‘ya don’t wanna go anywhere else. And don’t say somethin’ like ‘Oh, I don’t wanna put all this on you’ or whatever, because I’m bein’ honest when I say I’d be happy to do this for ‘ya.”</p><p>“Oh- uh- <em>wow</em>, I-” Lucky stammered, looking like he was flattered but definitely caught off guard, “What- What is it?”</p><p>“Join my band. The DCMC.”</p><p>Lucky’s mouth was slightly agape in surprise; he didn’t know what to do with this.</p><p>“Join your… <em>band?</em>” He said, with his eyes widened.</p><p>“Yeah! I’m not messin’ with ‘ya!” OJ said with a bit of excitement now in his voice, “We’ve been desperate for a bassist after our original one just… up and left us. And right after we signed a contract with this club. We could lose this whole operation if we don’t have the full band we promised our managers.”</p><p>“But- but- I dunno how to play the bass!” Lucky said hoarsely.</p><p>“Don’t worry, we’d teach ‘ya!” OJ smiled, “My heart’s with playin’ the saxophone but I know a bit of the bass. Magic- our guitarist- knows it more than I do. And we’ve got like… music books and stuff too. We’d all pitch in to help ‘ya learn all the basics of music. And you’ve got time, this club actually doesn’t open for another six whole months. Maybe more, our new managers have been sorta vague with a lotta shit lately. But they said six months at minimum. You’ve got some time if you’re willin’ to kick your ass a little and work hard.”</p><p>“But-” Lucky stammered again, “Why me?”</p><p>“‘Cause I told ‘ya,” OJ repeated, “You seem like a good guy and… we need, <em>need</em> a bassist. <em>Badly</em>. We’ve had <em>no</em> luck in findin’ one so far.”</p><p>OJ paused, a bit of anxiousness in his voice after his last comments. But then, he resumed:</p><p>“My friends make fun of me for thinkin’ this all the time but, I’m a big believer in fate. Yeah, sure, it seems like some cheesy shit but… I really think there’s… a bigger reason behind why some stuff happens. And I… I think you came here for a reason. Besides needing food and shelter. A bigger reason . I honestly dunno what that reason is but… I can just… feel it in my gut that fate brought you here.”</p><p>Lucky was still quiet; he was trying to process everything that OJ had just told him.</p><p>“I’m sorry if that was a lot for ‘ya,” OJ said quietly. He felt that he was making Lucky a bit uncomfortable now, and he was beginning to regret what he said, “I ain’t gonna be disappointed if ‘ya say no. It was just an… idea I had. That could solve both our problems. Two birds with one stone, if ‘ya know what I mean.”</p><p>Silence. But now, it looked like Lucky was less shocked and more pensive; OJ could see the gears turning in his head as he mulled over a decision.</p><p>“...I’ll- I’ll do it,” He said.</p><p>Now it was OJ’s turn to be shocked beyond belief.</p><p>“Wait- ‘ya will?” He stammered, he barely expected Lucky to accept his offer at all, let alone so quickly.</p><p>“Mm-hm,” Lucky nodded, “I… don’t know where else to go. I ain’t ready to… go out and ‘find myself’ yet, I guess. I… I like you so far, and the rest of your band, too. So… right now I… uh… don’t really wanna go anywhere else, and I’d be happy to stay with you if that means… helping you guys, too.”</p><p>OJ didn’t quite know what to think. Now, not only was his band likely saved from losing their contract, but now he was letting a whole new person into their ‘family’, definitely on short notice. OJ knew he probably should have talked with the other members of the DCMC about this first, but he felt that once they got to know Lucky a bit more they’d agree with his decision, especially since they were so desperate for a bassist.</p><p>“‘Ya really sure about this?” Was all OJ could think of to say.</p><p>Lucky nodded with a “Yeah”.</p><p>OJ began to get excited, despite how tired he was. His gut feeling that Lucky was meant to find the club only got stronger. He smiled at the man across from him giddily. Lucky was smiling back a little as well, looking a bit nervous, as if he was excited but still anxious about his whole situation in general.</p><p>“Aw, jeez,” OJ chuckled shakily, “Shit, thanks so much, man!”</p><p>Acting more on habit than thought, he reached one arm over Lucky’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Or, the closest someone could get to a hug while laying down on their side. Lucky froze for a second, seeming unsure what to do. Then, his body loosened, and he put an arm around OJ as well.</p><p>“I’m so friggin’ happy ‘ya found us,” OJ smiled, “I… I really hope you’ll be at home here, man. With us.”</p><p>OJ tried to pull away gently, but found that Lucky was still holding on to him, which was a bit unexpected. He moved his arm back to where it was before, sensing that he probably needed this, especially after everything he had been through. OJ was no stranger to the feeling.</p><p>“Uh… Thanks,” Lucky murmured quietly, his face buried in OJ’s shoulder. OJ wasn’t sure if it was because of his voice being muffled or not, but it almost sounded like he was a bit choked up.</p><p>“Of course,” OJ whispered, and squeezed Lucky a little tighter. After holding on to each other for a little while, they let go of each other tentatively, both seemingly comforted by the interaction. As they pulled away, OJ could see through the dark that Lucky’s eyes were a bit watery, which twinged on his heartstrings a little.</p><p>“Alright, if you’re stayin’, that means we’ve both got a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” OJ whispered, “So do ‘ya think ‘ya can fall asleep now?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lucky murmured gently, his eyes already closed, “I ain’t… cold anymore. Thanks.”</p><p>“Mm-hm,” OJ smiled, “Alright, goodnight.”</p><p>OJ and Lucky stayed close to each other for the rest of the night, as they were both able to drift off to sleep. The next morning, OJ told the rest of the DCMC about his decision to elect Lucky as their bassist. They were very surprised at first, and scolded OJ a little for making such a big decision without them. But then, after listening to OJ’s reasoning and getting to know Lucky a bit better, they started to see his appeal. Eventually, they welcomed Lucky into the band with open arms, and began to teach him the bass.</p><p>Over time, OJ discovered that Lucky was a quick learner; he seemed to really enjoy the DCMC’s music, and became excited to be a part of it. He became engrossed in his practicing, getting better and better with every note he played. OJ could see that he found music as a way to express himself and let his personality flourish, but also, he could see that it kept his mind off of those thoughts about his past that continued to perturb him. There were times, such as when he was playing his bass, that he seemed to have forgotten about them, but other times, he could see flashes of anxiousness in Lucky’s eyes, even as the weeks he spent with the DCMC turned to months, and as the months turned into years.</p><p>Lucky turned out to be quite the talented bassist, even better than their first one. As he got closer to everyone in the band, his personality started to show through. He was still naturally quiet and soft-spoken, but had a tendency to open up around people he was comfortable with. A lot of the time, he seemed stoic on the outside, but OJ could manage to make him chuckle with a stupid joke or just by being goofy with him in general. OJ discovered that Lucky loved most kinds of music, he loved to eat, he liked to be active, despite his impaired leg, but he also loved to sleep. Lucky loved the sound of rain and thunder, he loved to look at the stars when the sky was clear enough, he loved bathing in the band’s hot tub, and he loved to play Titiboo’s arcade games, even though he was never that great at them. But more than anything else, Lucky loved being a part of the DCMC. It became his whole world, and the other members became his closest friends, especially OJ. He trusted OJ more than anyone else; he would never forget the kindness he showed him the first night they met.</p><p>As time went on, as OJ found himself growing closer to Lucky, he found him more and more endearing. He liked him for many more reasons besides that he was a great bassist and a caring friend. Lucky definitely wasn’t perfect, but the things OJ liked about him strongly outweighed the dislikes. He loved how, even though he sometimes looked cold and stoic, his laugh was usually warm, sweet, and genuine. He loved his big nose and his twitchy mustache, he loved his strange quirks, and he loved his persistence in living and doing the things he loved, despite everything he had been through, despite the worries about his amnesia plaguing his head.</p><p>Eventually, after maybe a bit of denial, OJ came to the realization that he was falling for Lucky himself, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Part of him wanted to ask him out right away, but another part of him was terrified to do so. To anyone else, that would seem uncharacteristic of him. Part of OJ’s whole performance persona was to be the smooth, handsome, flirtatious lead singer of the DCMC, but a lot of it was really just exactly that, a persona. An act. It was an act that led him into a lot of his past relationships, and was also what led those relationships to end in failure. However, he felt that what he and Lucky had so far was different. It was close, trusting, and genuine. It was one of the most close and genuine friendships he had ever had, and he could tell that it was just as healthy for Lucky as it was for him. He was horrified of losing it, but yet, the thought of never becoming closer with him broke OJ’s heart. In addition, there was the fact that Lucky still had none of his memory back, and OJ still knew nothing of his past. He did care more about how Lucky was now more than he was back then, but he felt that if he made his advances too strongly or too quickly, that sense of mystery and uncertainty would make things awkward and uncomfortable between the two of them.</p><p>OJ decided that he would drop small, careful hints over time; little things, such as complimenting Lucky a little more than he usually did or buying him his favorite snacks from their vending machine even if he never asked him to. Every time OJ would do so, Lucky never showed any indication that he knew what his friend was doing. Either that, or he definitely did know but didn’t feel the same way, and was too polite to tell him to stop. He would just accept what was given to him with a kind ‘thanks’ and just leave it at that. He knew Lucky probably meant well, but it tortured him.</p><p>Incredibly enough, it took Lucky leaving the DCMC for an adventure to get his memory back and to save the world as well as a reset of the same world to get OJ to be straightforward with him about his feelings. After their fight with the robot doubles of the man who had tricked the DCMC into spouting his propaganda for years, OJ thought he had lost his friend and the potential love of his life forever. And just after he had learned Lucky’s real name for sure. Duster. It was Duster. He liked it better than the name he had helped him pick that night they first met, and he had been so happy that he had finally gotten his memory back.</p><p>OJ’s intense anger and grief could have carried him to destroy every single living thing that was still loyal to Porky in his path, but it did not last long. The last needle was pulled, the Light Dragon rose, the world was reset, not destroyed. There, in the darkness of the aftermath, the only one OJ saw was Luc-, no, Duster. <em>Duster</em>. He had to get his name right, especially if he wanted to show him how much he truly, genuinely cared for him. To show how much he truly wanted to know him.</p><p>Long story short, OJ told Duster that he had been longing to be with him for what seemed like forever now, and how he was so unbearably relieved that he was still alive. He could tell that, of course, Duster was the same as Lucky had always been, but also noticeably different. It was in the way he spoke, the way he carried himself. He looked so, <em>so </em>tired.</p><p>In the end, Duster admitted, tearful from all that he had just been through, that he did care for OJ as much as OJ cared for him, he had just been pretty oblivious with his flirting. He was aware that never was the best at picking up on social cues, and he apologized for also not being the best at expressing his feelings; he had always been timid in doing so. However, OJ didn’t care. He was just surprised but relieved that Duster felt the same way he did.</p><p>Just before they walked together into the new world, as they heard and saw the other people they knew beginning to emerge from the strange darkness around them, Duster gently leaned in close to OJ. He told him that the night they had first met, everything that OJ and the DCMC did for him, it was the kindest anyone had been to him in years. Duster told OJ that he didn’t realize just how thankful he was for them, and especially him, until he remembered everything, and that he just wanted to say how much he appreciated him. He wanted to be with OJ too, but he felt that he wasn’t quite ready yet. Duster didn’t feel comfortable being in a relationship with OJ until he told him about his past, until he knew who he really was. After he told him, Duster would let OJ decide from there whether or not he still wanted them to be together.</p><p>And, after they entered their new world together, after Duster got a chance to narrate his life to OJ and the rest of the band amidst the rebuilding, OJ became even more enticed with him. Duster was surprised but relieved that OJ wasn’t put off by his troubled background of thievery; OJ found it interesting instead. They officially decided there and then that they truly wanted to be together. Over the years, their bond only grew stronger, they only grew closer. Of course, there were many ups and downs, especially since they were helping society as a whole rebuild in the meantime, but the two became a source of stability and peace for each other during those strange times.</p><p>In the end, their bond had turned from friendship, to longing, and finally, to the deepest, most genuine love either of them had ever felt in their entire lives. Their bond turned to family. Duster and OJ were one of the first couples to marry in their new home. Even their friends became part of their family too; the rest of the DCMC, Kumatora, Lucas, Boney, their father. Eventually, Duster even let his father, Wess, back into his life, even though he had been the source of much of his suffering over the years. He let Wess back under conditions that went something like ‘Accept me and my husband for who we are or I’m never speaking to you again’, finally standing up against him.</p><p>Over the years, as their family grew and they watched the new world develop before their eyes, Duster and OJ couldn’t help but think about how grateful they were to have each other. Many times, when OJ would look at him, he would think back to the confused, scared man that walked into Club Titiboo one night, and how much he had grown from that moment. The rest of the DCMC still chuckled at him sometimes for believing so strongly in stuff like fate, but he didn’t care. Duster was what cemented his belief that things happened for a bigger reason, that some things are just meant to be, so solidly in his head. Duster eventually believed it too, sometimes joking that losing his memory was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. He said it like a joke, but OJ knew the truth, that he really meant it. How could they have met if he didn’t? How could he have gotten some of his closest friends if he didn’t? How could he have escaped a life of neglect if he didn’t?</p><p>Regardless of what either of them thought, OJ knew that strange feeling in his gut he had years ago was right, that he and Duster were meant to be, and that they were perfect for each other.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading my first mother fic/the first fic I’ve been able to churn out in a long time!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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